


Darling, Dearest, Dead

by twilightstargazer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Canon Era, F/M, Halloween Costumes, Single Parent James Potter, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:32:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: a collection of works from jilytober and beyond!***#10: teacher/ single parent au





	1. mind, body, and soul

**Author's Note:**

> brace yourselves for a lot of ridiculousness

In hindsight, James will admit that there were probably a number of other ways- better ways- to have gone about asking the girl for help, but he’s been watching, waiting, for quite sometime now, nervous energy buzzing underneath his skin like a thousand ants until she walks in.

“You’re the village witch, right?” he ended up blurting out over the counter, and they both freeze.

She turns around, ever so slowly, eyes dark green and dangerous and he swallows heavily. This is it, he thinks, she’s going to turn me into a toad.

The woman- girl, he now realises with a start- slinks over, slow and graceful, and though she stands nearly a foot shorter than him, he can’t help but take a step back, clipping his elbow on the espresso machine.

She looks nothing like the what he expected the village witch to look like, no warts or hooked nose, instead her skin fair and creamy, with dark red hair that looks like it was kissed by hellfire itself, glittering copper in the dim lights of the coffeeshop, dotted with sprigs of holly and mistletoe even though it’s just barely fall.

She’s beautiful in a deadly sort of way.

“Who told you that?” she asks, a voice like the wind that rattles wind chimes and blows of roofs at the same time.

Despite the fear he feels tracing down the line of his spine, James steels himself and says, “I hear things. A witch on the hill, hidden by brambles and briar bushes and perhaps something a bit more sinister.”

She hums noncommittally and looks around the shop. It’s empty, as per usual for a Tuesday afternoon, and she flicks her wrist, sending the jet of hot water into a waiting mug. “I wouldn’t call Aurora particularly sinister,” she says, while her stares at the cup of tea making itself, completely godsmacked. “Tetchy, perhaps, and cold towards strangers, but not sinister.”

The cup floats over to her and she fixes it right, adding milk and honey from a vial she seemed to have procured out of thin air. “How’d you know it was me?” she says, seemingly unbothered that James is two steps away from collapsing due to shock.

He doesn’t want to tell her that he’s seen her before in town, just glimpses here and there while she visits the market, never making conversation. He knows everyone in this town, except for her, who doesn’t seem to live here, not even when he followed her.

“Wild guess,” he shrugs, hoping that she believes it.

“Uh huh,” she says, lips twitching. Very carefully, she places her teacup down on the counter and leans forward, steepling her fingers together. The way she looks at him makes him feel like she can see right through him and James struggles not to fidget. He can feel that current flowing through him again, but it’s different this time, something lighter and strange.

She lifts a single eyebrow after she’s done giving him a once over, and asks, “So, what do you want?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I’m the village witch,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “People don’t come askin’ for me unless they want something, so out with it.”

“Right, er,” he rubs the back of his neck, “Do you do protection spells against Black magic?”

“What kind of black magic?”

“Black magic.”

“Oh,” she pauses, scrutinising him once more, “Got yourself in a spot of trouble hmm?”

“It’s not for me,” he’s quick to say, “It’s for my mate. I’m worried about him. He, ah- there was a fallout between them, a long time coming really, but I’m worried they might retaliate.”

She hums again, sipping her tea. “Why isn’t this friend asking me himself then?”

“Because he’s too bloody proud.”

“And you’re too bloody noble, is that it?” she says, head tilted to the side and she looks him as though he’s a hard fill on the Sunday crossword.

“If it’s noble to look out for my best mate’s well being then so be it,” he snaps, taking a step closer.

Her laugh it silverry, and he swears he feels a light breeze caress his skin. “Noble and mouthy,” she teases, propping up her chin. “I should turn you into a frog for the impertinence.”

This time it’s him that scrutinises her, giving her a quick up-down before finally asking, “Can you really do that.”

She falters. “Well, no actually. I’ve never really tried. I did however turn someone into a tortoise.”

“Lovely.”

She bares her teeth in a shark like grin. “Of course I am.” She slides off the stool and begins making her way to the exit just as a couple walks in. “Come find me Saturday, Potter. And bring something that belongs to your friend.”

“How’d you know my name?” he asks, looking warily at her. The last thing he needs is the local witch being a mind reader too.

Instead she just smirks and nods at his chest. “Name tag.”

His hand comes up on it’s own accord to brush against the cool metal and he flushes dully. “Right,” he says. “And what about you? What’s your name? Fair’s fair after all.”

She looks mighty amused by now. “Lily.”

“Like the death flower,” he muses out loud, and she cackles.

“Exactly, like that,” she winks, and then she’s gone, just vanishing into nothingness, leaving a half empty cup of tea that’s already cold and the lingering scent of something sweet and floral in the air.

-

James sneaks out early Saturday morning and begins his trek to find the witch. It isn’t as hard as he thought it would be, taking him only twenty minutes before he’s stood in front of a quaint little cottage.

It looks like what he thought a witch’s house would look like, if he’s being honest. Small and made out of stone, bundles of flowers and herbs clipped up to dry, and he swears the trees all stare at him while he walks up the beaten path to the door. There’s even a mailbox, red paint faded and flaking, with the name ‘Evans’ crudely carved into it in what looks like a child’s handwriting.

He has to knock three times before she appears, jerking it open forcefully and squinting sleepily up at him.

“What the fuck,” she says, flat, though the end is caught on a yawn.

It’s obvious that she just woke up, wearing an oversized sweater with the sleeves covering her hands, and her hair is a veritable bird’s nest, still peppered with flowers. Baby’s breath this time if he’s not mistaken.

She looks adorable if he’s being honest, and then he wants to slap himself, because did he really just think of her as adorable?

“You told me to come by on Saturday!” he defends himself, and she slumps against the the doorframe, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, but not at the crack of dawn,” she mutters, “Jesus.”

“Can you say that?”

Lily glares balefully at him. “I’m a witch, not a demon. I’m not going to burst into flames for saying it.”

“Right. Sorry. Stupid question,” he says, feeling himself flush.

She sighs before pushing herself up and walking back into the house, leaving James standing there awkwardly. It’s only when she gets to the end of the corridor does she turn around and say, “Well what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

James jumps at that, and scurries inside after her, slamming the door shut. He can’t be sure, but he thinks he hears a tinny voice laugh  at him.

The inside of her house is a mess. There are vials and bottles and jars everywhere; on the bookshelf, the cupboards, he even spots a few in the fridge when she opens it to pull out the eggs.

“Breakfast?” she asks, cracking them directly in the pan. He’s certain a few shards of shell get in there as well.

“No thank you,” he declines, setting his bag on the wooden table and sitting.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs. She ends up making him a cup of peppermint tea though, and when she sits down next to him he sees that her eggs are runny and her toast burnt, and he has to bite back a smile. Seems like not even magic can help her cooking skills. Or lack thereof.

He jiggles his leg while she eats, and tries not to be too obvious as he checks out the place. She must notice though, for she asks, “So your friend is Sirius Black?”

“Someone did their homework.”

“Nah. I just talk a lot to the town gossip. I read her palm, she pays me in free drinks and the newest tales of who’s shacking up with who.” She wipes her mouth with a napkin. “So, what’d you bring for me to work with?”

He fumbles with his bag in his haste before pulling out one of the many worn leather bands Sirius wears on his wrists and passes it over to her. Lily takes it with dainty fingers and examines it, pushing her chair back as she putters around her kitchen. James intends on staying to watch her, but when the scent of incense becomes too cloying, he excuses himself to the sitting room.

There’s a fat ginger cat curled up on one of the cushions, and it eyes him warily when he sits on the other end. He can just barely make out the name etched on the collar, but soon learns that this is the mysterious Aurora she mentioned. He reaches out to pet her, and she hisses, swatting at him before bounding away.

The sitting room is like the kitchen, messy and confusing with her things strewn everywhere, but it’s more knickknacks and magazines than spellbooks and potions.

He’s flipping through one of her issues of Vogue- there’s a number of random things circled and highlighted that he rather not think about- when Lily reappears, soot smudged on her cheek and still drowning in that ridiculous sweater.

“Here,” she says, handing over the band, as well as a small cylindrical pendant. “Bury that in your backyard tonight while saying his full name over and over.”

“We don’t have a backyard.”

“Then bury it in a flowerpot,” she retorts, “Find some dirt in your house and pop that sucker in.”

He can’t help but snort. “Customer service isn’t your strong suit I’m guessing.”

“Shut up and get out of my house,” she quips, though he spots a smile threatening to show.

He puts both of the things back in his bag and is just about to do so when he stops, pulling out his wallet. “What about payment?” he asks, already got a wad of tenners in his hand.

She waves him off. “I haven’t come up with one as yet, but when I do,” she pulls a scrap of paper out of thin air and hands it over to him, “I’ll text you.”

“You have a phone?”

Lily rolls her eyes. “Goodbye Potter,” she says and he can’t help but grin as he walks out, waving over his shoulder.

“Ta Evans,” he says, and there’s the sound of something crashing to the ground followed by a particularly loud swear.”

He sees Lily a few days later at his shop, wearing a floral sundress with her hair done up in a long, thick braid. Her trademark flowers are woven into it, lovely blue on red.

“On the house,” he says, sliding over a cinnamon chai to her.

She accepts it without a word, taking a huge gulp before finally saying, “This isn’t my payment.”

“I know. You didn’t text me.” He doesn’t mean for his voice to come that whiny, but it does, and she picks up on it if her smirk is anything to go by.

“Wanted my attention that badly, Potter?”

He bites his tongue. While Sirius doesn’t know about the spell hidden in their kitchen garden, he does know that James has been infatuated with her since.

“Course not,” he scoffs, feeling his ears warm. “I just don’t like to owe people, is all.”

She still doesn’t seem to buy it, and leans forward to pat his cheek. She smells clean, like soap, and there’s still that floral undertone clinging to her skin. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

He huffs and goes back to behind the counter to serve the customer that just walked in, flipping her off subtly behind his back as he goes. She laughs, and it flows over him like a stream, cool and lovely.

Somehow, Lily Evans weaves her way into his life.

She comes to the shop almost every other day, even if it’s for just a couple minutes, and James finds himself in her house more often than not. It starts because he’s adamant that she cannot be trusted to feed herself, and then continues because, well, she might not admit it but she likes the company. He figures things might get lonely with no one else besides a cat.

(Of course, Sirius barks out a laugh when he tries to tell him this.

“Right. Yeah. Definitely. You are totally not spending time with her because you’ve got a crush. Nope, not at all.”

James hits him in the face with a pillow, but he still can’t help but blush when he sees Lily the next day, smiling and joking with him.)

So he might have a bit of a crush on her.

No biggie.

He can live with that.

At least, that’s what he thinks until she bursts into the shop one day.

“I’ve figured out your payment,” she blurts, pulling on a stray string on her sleeve. It’s the first time he’s seen her nervous, pale and withdrawn and unable to meet his gaze. Under normal circumstances he would tease her because of this, but now he just feels his heart sink.

“Oh,” he says, frowning. He tries not to let his disappointment show. Once she’s decided what it is she wants from him there’ll be no reason for him to keep hanging out with her. He might think that they’re friends, but that doesn’t mean she does. Who knows, she might like being alone all the time. Maybe Sirius was right. He should have gotten over her before things got too deep.

So consumed he is by his own thought that he doesn’t even notice when Lily takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders until she says, all at once, “I want us to go out for dinner. As a, um, date.”

James blinks.

Well he certainly wasn’t expecting that.

He attempts a smirk, but he’s certain he’s far too giddy to get it right. “You asking me out Evans?”

“Maybe. I mean, obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can always figure out something else-”

He rounds the counter to take her hand, stopping her from rambling even further, and that’s when she finally looks up at him, eyes wide and ready to swallow him whole.

“I want to,” he assures her, squeezing her hand. “I want you.”

Her responding grin could blind him, and she’s actually floating before his eyes, hovering just a few inches off the ground, and then she throws her arms around him, pulling him close.

Her mouth is warm, tentative even, quite unlike the Lily Evans he’s come to known these past few weeks, all fire and brimstone, but when he cups her jaw, stroking her cheek with his thumb, she appears, relaxing beneath him. She tastes like sunshine and wonder when he licks into her mouth, and he can feel the shared current running through them both, humming under his skin, making his ears ring and he just holds her tighter.

She’s still grinning when they break apart, and she brushes his hair back. “I want you too,” she mumbles shyly, and he smiles, nosing her cheek softly.

“Of course you do. I’m a catch.”

 

There’s that laugh again, that wonderful silver laugh that he loves so much and his heart flips in his chest when she tugs him back again in another kiss, because Lily Evans may be a witch, but she’s also his, and nothing can top that.


	2. head games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> could you write something about Jily just functioning perfectly together as Head Students, maybe at a meeting or during an announcement to the school? and the others are like super impressed because how did this happen???

“I heard that Potter paid her off to keep quiet about how he got the position.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; they’re obviously dating. Marty said he saw them snogging behind the greenhouses last Thursday.”

“Oh please, Marty is less reliable than leaving a niffler in charge of your wallet-”

“If you all could settle down, we’ll get this meeting started,” Lily says loudly, throwing the pair of gossiping fifth years a glare that has them both mumble hasty apologies under their breaths. It doesn’t stop them from sharing a look when James touches her elbow as he brushes past her though.

The meeting is like always- going over the rules, writing up the new patrol schedule, reminding them yet again that Filch has added a half a dozen new things to the banned list. It’s positively banal, but what has the attention of everyone else is the way the two heads seem to work in tandem with each other.

It’s no secret that the rivalry between James Potter and Lily Evans is the fiercest that these halls have seen, and yet…

Yet they’ve almost mellowed out, their bickering almost playful, to the point where everyone seems to be asking themselves if there was something that they had missed before.

The same old song and dance goes on for the next three prefect meetings, both Lily and James working in near perfect tandem that leaves almost the entire student body stunned, baffled, and a little bit worried that this just might be the calm before the storm.

“Bet you a galleon they’re together by Christmas.”

“Bet you  _ two  _ galleons they’re together before Halloween.”

“You’re on.” They shake on it before they’re interrupted by a loud bang of someone hitting the desk. Hard.

“If we could have some order,” says James, glancing sidelong at the pair. They’re not the only ones talking, but they do duck their heads, appropriately chastised. “I know you’re all excited about the planning for the feast next month, but really. This is not how prefects are to behave.”

Lily snickers off to the side. “Pot calling the kettle black, much?” she says cheekily, and James’ responding grin is, well, nauseating really.

“Do as I say, not as I do, Evans,” he quotes sagely, and she swats him lightly in the stomach.

“Hypocrite.”

“Nah,” he shrugs, still smiling dopily. It’s only then he seems to realise that they’re still standing in front of a now incredibly silent group of prefects, all of which are looking on in rapture. Except for Remus of course, who sits off to the side, a coy little smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Meeting adjourned,” he says quickly, ruffling his hair while a tinge of colour makes itself known on his cheeks. Lily cackles, hip checking him while everyone slowly gathers their things.

She catches the eye of the two previously gossipping prefects and says low, “I think both of you should forfeit that little bet you have going on. It’s pretty much void at this point,” and then saunters off, leaving them with their jaws hanging open.

She grabs her bag off the table and leans up to press a kiss to James’ cheek, which has him getting even redder. “Meet me in the library once you’re done locking up in here,” she tells him and then, with one last look at the two of them, still standing there completely gobsmacked, she fucking  _ winks  _ and all but floats out of the room.

“Oi, you two!” James says once he’s out of his stupor, “Hurry up now.”

They jump, and hurry to grab their things, scrambling out of the room.

***

Two weeks later the rest of the school is privy to the secret when they crash together on the quidditch pitch, a flurry of limbs and toothy grins, and James kisses her square on the mouth for the world to see.

“Technically it happened before Halloween. You owe me two galleons.”

“Shut up.”


	3. things you said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said when (you thought) i couldn't hear

“Do you think I could realistically kill myself with a quill?” asks James, rolling the nib between his fingers.

Lily doesn’t even bother to look up from her parchment as she says, “Wouldn’t it be easier to just Avada yourself? I don’t think a quill could do much damage. Besides, Flitwick probably wouldn’t appreciate the bloodstains either.”

“Come off it, Evans, you can’t Avada  _ yourself _ ,” he scoffs, rocking back in your chair, “And you call yourself a witch.”

“My bad,” she says dryly, ending her sentence with a flourish and looking up at him, “If you’re really that bad off you can borrow my notes.” She pushes a stack of parchment over to him and he grins.

“Ta’ Evans,” he says, tugging lightly on the end of her braid, and Lily swats at him as though he’s nothing but a bothersome fly. “I owe you one.”

“Keep that in mind next time we’re doing up the patrols.” She packs the rest of her things back into her bag. “Speaking off, I have to get to mine. Give me back those in the morning yeah?”

He sends her off with a lazy salute and begins thumbing through the methodically written notes, chuckling to himself a little because she would include little diagrams on how the hand movements are supposed to be for the spell. It only serves to drag him further down the ‘unashamedly and irrevocably in love with Lily Evans’ hole he fell into and made home in the past few months.

And then that’s when he finds it, a crumpled and creased piece of paper folded in half, obviously not meant to be sandwiched between charm history and repercussions.

He debates opening it for a moment. On one hand, it could just be a scrap she used while in class, but on the other hand, it could be something else. Something… unexpected.

Curiosity belligerently getting the best of him, James gives in, looking over his shoulder ever so often as he flips it open.

It’s a series of notes, which is… underwhelming to say the least, and just when he’s about to put it back a word catches his eye.

More specifically, his name scrawled in an unknown handwrite.

_ Be more obvious staring at Potter. Go on. I dare you. _

**_Shut up Mary._ **

_ I’m just saying, we all know you want to jump his bones. Don’t know why you’re denying it. _

**_SHUT. UP. MARY._ **

_ Admit it Lils, you like him. _

_ You like like him. _

_ Oh avoiding my notes now, is that it? _

**_I just want to pay attention to class._ **

_ You’re paying far more attention to James’ face, just saying. _

**_… it’s a very nice face and that’s all I’m saying on the matter_ **

James rereads the letter at least five times, his heart thumping uncomfortably in his throat as he tries to make sense of it because surely this doesn’t mean what he thinks it means… right?

He reads it a sixth time, just to make sure.

Eventually, he really does need to work on his essay, so he puts the note aside, folding it neatly to deal with once he’s done with the matter at hand. He doesn’t know how he managed to concentrate on writing a three foot essay on the history of Fidelius Charm, but he’s just tying up the last paragraph by the time the librarian starts extinguishing the lamps.

He gathers his things, saving the note for last, and, after a moment of contemplation, slowly presses his quill to the back side of the parchment and begins to write, gently blowing on the ink to dry it before slotting it back in between the papers where he found it.

_ Evans, _

_ Thanks for lending me your notes. They’re still illuminating despite the fact that you may have been distracted by my supposed ‘very nice face’. _

_ -Potter _

_ PS: I like like you too. _

_ PPS: Go out with me, Evans? _

-

The next morning Lily is waiting for him in the common room. She greets him with a punch to the arm for ‘sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,’ and then presses a lingering kiss to his cheek saying, ‘I would love to, you git.’


	4. sometimes you have to take a leap of faith first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistaken identities at a Halloween party (AU or not--up to you!)

Lily would just like everyone to know that she does in fact have friends, okay?

“No you don’t,” Sirius snorts, flipping the boxcutter in the air while she restocks the bottom shelf. “The only people you talk to are me, and old Peggy down the road.”

Lily would also just like everyone to know that Sirius Black is a goddamn menace.

… who might be a little bit right. Just a smidge.

She moved here about a month and a half ago, and while she may have found a job at the local bookstore, she doesn’t really have that much social interaction beyond the bookstore, Mr Langley, her landlord who she’s only met twice, and Mrs Hedgeford, her elderly neighbour who’s cats like to sneak into her flat when she leaves the windows open.

Alright, so maybe she could use some friends.

“Fine,” she pouts petulantly, “But I don’t see how this entails me coming to your stupid Halloween party.”

Sirius looks at her, thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh yes, because spending an evening socialising with people within your own age group certainly isn’t a way to broker new friendships,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “Honestly, and you say you graduated college.”

She swats at his leg. “Don’t be a git.”

He kicks back at her. “Don’t be dense.”

Lily blows out an exasperated puff of air. “If I agree to come to your stupid would you leave me be?” she demands.

Sirius’ grin is all teeth. “I’ll text you the address. And don’t forget, you have to come in costume otherwise I’m turning you away from the door.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, now would we.”

“I’m serious Evans. Come in costume, find me, and then I’ll introduce you to everyone. By the end of the night you’d have moved up from a social triangle to an actual circle.”

“Sci fi needs restocking.”

“I’ll be the one in the superhero costume!”

“Just go pack the fucking books, Sirius. Jesus.”

-

She’s not going to lie, she puts very little effort in her costume.

She manages to unearth a sparkly green skirt in the back of her closet from her dancer days and pairs it with a purple crop top and some fake, clunky glasses and voila. Hipster Ariel from  _ The Little Mermaid _ .

(She sends a selfie to one of her friends back home and gets the ‘you tried’ star meme in return which. Well, she probably deserves it.)

One glance at the clock tells her that she’s running late so, swearing vehemently, Lily shoves her feet into her shoes and grabs her keys before trying to find her way to Sirius’ flat.

It turns out that the flat isn’t really a flat, but an actual sprawling mansion, and she spends far too long gaping at it, to the point where her cab driver asks if this is the right place.

Considering the party is already in full swing, people spilling out onto the lawn with the dull while cheap plastic skeletons were placed all over, she’s pretty sure it is.

She mutters an apology and hands him the money before climbing out, already regretting her choice of costume. It’s fucking freezing outside and by the time she slips through the door, her teeth are chattering and she’s cursing Sirius Black to the high heavens.

There’s no fucking way she can find him, not with all of these people here, and he doesn’t pick up his phone either when she calls, leaving her alone and feeling dreadfully out of place in a too big house.

Of course, it is a party, so she doesn’t stay alone for long, almost immediately accosted by several- mostly drunken- people and, about half an hour and two drinks in later, she’s slowly on her way to joining them.

She’s in the middle of a discussion about YA lit with a pair of girls- Mary and Marlene, she thinks were their names- when she catches a glimpse of someone in a Superman costume slipping into the kitchen.

Considering there’s been a lack of masked or otherwise vigilantes around, she guesses that this must be the prick who invited her and then left her to her own devices, so she quickly excuses herself from the conversation and follows him.

His back is to her, a crisp white button down hiding the trademark blue t shirt and a newsie cap covering his head, while he talks with someone.

Normally Lily would wait for him to end his conversation, but she’s on her third drink and manners aren’t exactly reachable at the moment, so she all but throws herself against his back and punches his arm, saying, “You fucking asshole!”

“Ow! Bloody hell!” he shrugs her off easily and turns around and… that is not Sirius.

He’s a stranger, with a messy dark hair just peeking through from beneath the hat, and a pair of clunky specs sliding down his nose that look more real than hers. His shirt is tucked into a pair of slacks, open to reveal the giant, stylised ‘S’ on his chest, and there’s a notepad in his front pocket.

There are several things she could point out- his tan skin, the quirk of his mouth, his tall and gangly yet unfairly attractive nature- but the thing she was most focused on was that this was certainly not Sirius Black.

_ Fuck _ .

She must have said it out loud for the stranger lifts an eyebrow, mouth twitching, and Lily is sure that she resembles a fire truck right now.

A big, wailing fire truck that’s commanding all the attention onto herself.

Or maybe she’s just being dramatic.

Either way, she feels ten times more sober than she did five minutes ago and certainly wouldn’t mind if the earth chose to consume her right at that moment.

“You’re not Sirius,” she finally says, and yep, right now it feels like the fire truck is on fire.

His eyebrows climb further up his forehead. “I’m not, no. And you’re not… er, well actually, I’m not exactly sure what you’re supposed to be so I rather not finish that sentence.”

“Ariel,” she supplies. “Hipster Ariel. It was the best I could do on short notice.”

“Right.”

They stand there awkwardly for a minute in silence, until both of them blurt out,

“Do you know where-”

“I’m James-”

She flushes again, although this time he seems to do the same, pushing his frames back up as he ducks his head slightly.

“Lily,” she says, holding out her hand.

“James,” he replies, slipping his hands into hers, and she tries not to think about how the warmth of his palm practically envelops hers.

She realises that they’ve been standing and shaking for a good moment now just about the same time he does, and they both drop it immediately, once again with pink cheeks and mumbled words. He goes to ruffle his hair, and it dislodges his hat a little bit. It makes her bite back a smile.

And then his words catch up to her, having her tilt her head to the side as she asks, “Wait, James? As in Sirius’ James?”

He grins boyishly. “Yeah. Sirius is my best mate. How’d you know?”

“Git can’t shut up about whatever nonsense you two have done when were at work together.”

He snaps his fingers. “Wait. You’re  _ Lily _ . His work friend.”

“He does consider himself part of my social triangle, yes,” she says, dry, and is rewarded with his laugh. It’s a nice laugh, she must admit.

“Yeah, he’s told me about you. Said you were cool.”

“You telling lies about me, Prongs?” says Sirius, appearing out of nowhere and draping his arm around her.

“The public deserves to know the truth,” he says solemnly in return and Sirius scoffs.

“Prat,” he replies, before looking down at Lily. He squeezes her arm. “Didn’t actually think you would show up, love.”

She gives him a critical once over. He’s dressed as Deadpool which- yeah. If Sirius Black had to dress as a superhero, he would go with Deadpool.

“Well, you did threaten me. And then not answer my calls when I got here. Not to worry, I’m managing to work my way up from triangle to circle without you.”

He throws his head back and laughs, she finds herself grudgingly smiling up at him. Meanwhile James just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he says, “You can’t threaten people to come to our party, Padfoot. That’s not how it works.”

As expected, Sirius ignores him choosing instead to say, “Well, if you don’t need my help to achieve circle status, then maybe you want James here to help you.”

She’s not drunk enough to miss the unspoken conversation between the two boys, but she is drunk enough to not be able to interpret it.

James caves first, once again ruffling his hair, this time taking off the cap entirely so that he can rake his hand through it. “I don’t think Lily wants to spend the evening with me.”

“Why not? You probably loads better than this wanker,” she says, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

“Ta Evans,” grunts Sirius.

And that’s how she finds herself spending the rest of her night with James Potter, being introduced to almost any and everyone. She meets Remus and Peter, the other half of the fantastic foursome Peter proudly exclaims, slurring half his words, and then manages to almost completely outdrink James, to the point where they both just end up as a tangle of limbs on the couch pushed aside in the living room, people dancing and chatting around them.

Everything seems softer in a drunken haze and that’s why she allows herself to cuddle with him. Or so she tries to tell herself. It doesn’t matter; James is warm and comfortable and smells nice, like detergent and spices.

“You’re pretty cool, Evans,” he slurs nuzzling her cheek, and she absentmindedly pets his hair. He lost his hat ages ago, somewhere around the time she put down her fake specs and forgot to pick it back up.

Lily can’t remember what it is she mumbled back to him, but it made him smile dopily and tangle their fingers together.

-

It’s only slightly awkward the next morning waking up next to him on the couch, but she’s hungover and hungry and smells bacon, so she pushes aside her embarrassment in favour of her seeing about her stomach.

She isn’t the only one who stayed over, but she is the only one who seemed to have fallen asleep wrapped around one of the hosts so.

Sirius smirks at her over breakfast and she aims a kick at him under the table.

Afterwards, when she’s downed at least two bottles of water and an Advil, and washed her mouth and face, slowly beginning to feel human again, James offers to drive her home.

They’re pulled up in front of her complex when she turns to him and says, “I don’t really sleep over with someone I just met.”

He winces a little, and spends far too long making sure the car is in parked. “It’s okay; I-”

“I wasn’t done,” she interrupts him before taking a deep breath and meeting his eye across the console, “I don’t usually sleep over with someone I just met unless we’ve had dinner first so. Are you free next Friday?”

She worries her lip while he stares at her, gobsmacked, and just when she’s about to take it back and hightail it back to her apartment and wallow in misery and embarrassment for the rest of the day, he breathes out, “Fuck- yes, of course, I’m free. So,  _ so  _ free,” and she giggles.

Lily types in her number in his phone and, before she leaves, presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

-

The next Halloween they go together in matching costumes, and the one after that, they have matching rings.


	5. those aren't pink and fluffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you’re a cop here to break up the party but i thought it was a costume and may have made some inappropriate suggestions regarding your handcuffs

As a kid, Lily loved halloween. She would dress up each and every year, dragging her sister out to go trick or treating because really? Is there anything better than free candy as an eight year old? Probably not.

As an adult on the other hand, Lily hates halloween.

Or really, as an adult  _ cop _ .

People are stupid, parties are stupid, and everyone wants to have sex in a graveyard at least once for some reason. There’s harassment, destruction of private property, public indecency… you name it, she’s most likely dealt with it on halloween. 

Which is why she’s not even fazed when she’s called to break up a party that’s gotten a little bit out of control late at night. It’s not the first time she’s had to deal with something like this. It won’t be the last time either.

She gets complimented on her costume when she walks in, the dull thump of the bass practically rattling her skull, and one guy tells her that he would have prefered that she did sexy cop version. Lily just smiles tightly, resisting the urge to draw her weapon and asks him where the owner of the house is. She’s a professional. She’s not going to punch a drunk, leer-y, fratboy wannabe for being a douche.

It still takes her several more minutes to find the owner though- a one James Potter according to the people she’s asked- and when she does, he’s in the middle of a game of beer pong that he doesn’t seem to be winning, face flushed and costume askew.

He’s- cute, Lily realises with a start, and then she shakes her head to clear it because _ time and place, Evans _ .

The game is over by the time she manages to elbow through the crowd, and he’s leaning against the wall with another dark haired man who whispers something to him before clapping him on the back and leaving.

“You James Potter?” she all but yells as she sidles up to him.

He gives her a pretty blatant once over, lingering on the silver handcuffs she has linked through her belt loop and grins. “ _ Hello _ officer.”

Lily resists the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. “I asked you a question.”

“You can ask me all the questions you want, love,” he smirks, leaning in close so that she could smell the alcohol on him, “The answer is yes to everything.”

“Jesus,” she mutters, looking heavenward. “Look, I’m an actual police officer,” she flashes him the badge on her hip, “And I’m here because there have been several reports of a disturbance so if you can, either turn down the music, or you’re gonna take a little ride with me downtown.”

The whole things just seems to be funny to be funny to him as he tilts his head back and laughs. “I’ll ride with you anytime, officer,” he slurs, and then actually reaches out to trace the metal cuffs, “Are you going to handcuff me too? Tell me I’ve been a naughty, naughty boy?”

She slaps his hand away impatiently and is just about to tear him a new one when the man from before appears, cracking open a water bottle and shoving it into his chest, “Here you bloody lightweight, drink that- oh fuck,” he swears when he catches sight of Lily, straightening up.

He seems much sober that his friend Giggles McLaughsalot over her and she turns her attention to him. “Officer Lily Evans,” she nods curtly.

There’s a muscle jumping in his jaw when he nods back. “Sirius Black. Is there a problem officer?”

It’s much easier this time for her to relay the news of the reports to him, and Black just nods and slips off to deal with the problem after telling Potter not to do anything stupid. She doesn’t think she quite suppresses her snort at that, but thankfully neither one of them heard.

“You’re pretty,” James says, reaching out to touch her hair bound high in a ponytail. She ducks out of the way to avoid his petting.

“You’re drunk,” she shoots back, mostly under her breath, but he grins again anyway.

“I’ve never actually tried handcuffs before,” he says conversationally, taking a swig of his water, “I reckon yours might hurt someone in the throes of passion though.”

Lily chokes on her tongue, face twisting as though she swallowed something sour. “Are you still on about this?”

“Now the fluffy ones I can understand,” he says, either completely ignoring her, or haven’t heard her over the roar of the music. “They should be soft right? They won’t hurt your wrists. But those,” he gestures to hers and half of his water sloshes out the bottle, “Those look like a mighty pain.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs, giving into the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Are you always this pedantic?”

“Ped-what-tic?”

“Never mind.” She can’t wait until her shift is over and she can go home. She’s had enough of this day.

The music lowers dramatically, no longer to the point where the neighbour down the street should be able to feel their spleens vibrate, and Sirius returns a few moments later, finding her glaring at James.

He sighs and takes hold of his friend. “Sorry if he did anything stupid,” he sighs, tugging him up the stairs, “He’s a drunken idiot.”

“I reckoned yeah,” she says with a twitch of her lips. “Try to keep the music at this level. I don’t want to have to arrest anyone tonight.” She narrows her eyes at James, “No matter how much they want it.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and walks out, just catching Sirius’ horrified ‘what the fuck did you do?’

-

A few days later she’s doing paperwork at the station when she gets a call that there’s someone in the lobby to see her. Frowning, she sets the file aside and goes down, only to find a very sheepish and decidedly sober James Potter scruffing the linoleum with his trainers.

His head shoots up when she clears her throat and he flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hi,” he says when she comes to stand in front of him.

“Potter,” she nods her head in acknowledgement.

“I, uh, came to apologise about Saturday. I can’t exactly remember what I did, but Sirius said I embarrassed myself in front of the pretty cop so,” he ducks his head and she can see the redness creep up the tips of his ears. It’s endearing almost.

“Oh you definitely did,” she can’t help but saying, just to see him squirm. “But it’s not like I haven’t seen worse.”

“Because that makes me feel so much better,” he mutters under his breath before ruffling his hair and looking back up. “Can I ask what I did? Like I said. Things are… hazy at best.”

She gives him a pretty look. “Well, you mostly made a lot of inappropriate cop jokes. And wanted to be- ahem,  _ arrested _ .”

“Oh.” And then the words actually catch up to him and he almost turns red. “ _ Oh _ .”

“Oh indeed.”

“Yeah, I should grovel or have, I don’t know, brought you doughnuts or something to apologies even further,” he runs an aggravated hand through his hair, unable to meet her gaze. “God that’s- does it help if I say I was really, really drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Lily chirps and he groans. She worries her lips, watching him for a second because, well, he’s cute when he’s flustered. And he did actually seek her out to apologise for his behaviour which was surprising and charming.

Finally, she says, slow, “But if you really want to make it up, there’s this really good cafe two blocks away and I’m on my lunch break in a few minutes.”

He looks up, a spark of hope in his eye. “Yeah?”

Lily forces herself to bite back a smile. “Yeah.”

James’ grin is blinding, and he pushes up his specs before shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall as he feigns nonchalance. “Cool.”

“I’ll just go grab my stuff then.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“You better,” she says, flashing him an impish grin, “I wouldn’t want to have to handcuff you to something, now would I?”


	6. in which costumes are abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year

i.

“No one wants to hook up with me,” Lily announces with a slight pout as she delivers a round of drinks to their table.

Marlene takes a long pull of her beer before drawling, “Tragic,” and then leans over to mess with her topknot. “Don’t know why; dressing as Wilma Flintstone sends a certain kind of subliminal message. I thought guys would be into that.”

She bats her hands away. “You’re terrible,” she sniffs, “Besides, it’s a retro costume party. At least _ I _ put in some effort to come as something other than a pot smoking hippie.”

“Hey,” says Marlene, poking her in the arm, “I’m a hot pot smoking hippie. Get your facts straight.”

“The hottest,” Lily replies with a straight face.

Mary chooses that moment to appear, almost breaking an ankle in her ridiculous platform heels. Wisps of hair are sticking to her temples and she impatiently bats them out of the way before beaming at Lily.

“Your husband here!”

She does  _ not  _ choke on her rum and coke, but she comes pretty fucking close to doing just that.

“What.”

“Your husband! Fred Flintstone!” she says, positively gleeful. Mary has been trying to set them all up ever since she and Reg entered the ‘serious relationship zone.’ It’s both endearing and also slightly annoying.

“Who the fuck would come as Fred Flintstone to a halloween party?” she asks, lip curling, “Who does that?”

“Well, you’re here as Wilma so you don’t really have place to talk,” Marlene points out unhelpfully.

She shoots her a glare. “Shut up, Marlene-”

“Evans!”

Lily freezes for a half a second, and then looks heavenward, muttering a prayer before she feels someone looping an arm around her.

“Potter,” she sighs.

He squeezes her arm, and she can practically hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “You didn’t tell me we were married, love. I’m hurt.”

“You most certainly will be if you don’t get your hand off me in the next two seconds.”

He smoothly pulls away and she turns to face him with a frown. He’s still grinning as  she assessing his costume, ignoring the small twinge of interest that blooms as she takes in his broad shoulders and golden skin.

James Potter and Lily Evans are not friends. At all. Not even a little bit. No matter what he might say.

(It started because of a bitter argument over a library table of all things, but they’re both far too proud to concede defeat so Lily snipes at him and he does his best to get under her skin whenever their paths cross. It’s actually quite cathartic sometimes.)

“Really? A Flintstone character? You couldn’t have gone with something more generic?”

“Pot. kettle. You’re black,” he points out cheekily, and she rolls her eyes.

“You know what? Never mind. I’m going to get another drink,” she says, draining the last of her cup before turning on her heel and walking off.

His voice still manages to float to her ears over the din as he says, “But Evans! We haven’t discussed our nuptials as yet!”

-

ii.

She goes as Poison Ivy for two reasons: the first being that it was a last minute costume decision and it’s not particularly hard to glue a bunch of fake leaves to a dress, and the second was that Marlene was going as Harley Quinn and they both wanted to use it as an excuse to make out with each other as the biggest fuck you to everyone who’s surely going to call them fake geek girls.

What she doesn’t expect is to walk face first into Batman about an hour in, and for that Batman to be one James Potter, already grinning at her through that ridiculous mask.

“Alright, Evans?” he asks, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Why does god make me suffer?” she asks in turn, and he just grins even wider for some reason. It’s ridiculous.  _ He’s  _ ridiculous, in his stupid superhero get up that makes him look buffer than he actually is.

Ridiculous.

(She lets her eyes dart back down to his chest for half a second. For reasons.)

“Here to ensnare me with in your web of deceit and fuckery?” he asks, bumping his hip into hers.

“You wish,” she snorts. “The only thing you’re going to get from me is a gag if you don’t shut up and leave me alone.”

His grin turns wicked, and she just manages to hold her hand up in time before he could make an undoubtedly depraved comment. “Don’t.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m fun. Just not with you. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to find my comic girlfriend to make out with. I think I see a catwoman over there so why don’t you go bother her instead.”

“You can’t deny the sparks forever, Evans!” he tells her when she manages to skirt around him.

“Go back to brooding over Gotham!” she yells back as she gets in line for the keg, and she swears it’s not a smile tugging at her lips.

-

iii.

She finds him easily enough after two people ask if they could get pictures of her and her ‘boyfriend; you’re costumes are amazing!’

“Seriously,” she says, flat, taking in his Jack Skellington costume.

James just holds his hands up. “It’s a classic. You’re the one who came as Sally.”

“One day I’m going to murder you,” she says in a faux cheery voice. “Think a scene out of a Quentin Tarantino movie.”

“Oh come on Evans,” he says, pushing off the wall and handing her a drink. It a rum and coke, made exactly how she likes it, and she takes a sip. She does trust him even though he’s a veritable prick at times. “It’s plain as anyone could see, we’re truly meant to be,” he quotes with a cheeky grin, and she throws her head back and laughs.

“You’re an ass, Potter,” she tells him with a smile, and James just pulls his jacket tight and throws a wink at her.

-

iv.

“I don’t even want to know,” she tells him while he looks amusedly down at her.

His Jon Snow costume is far more put together than her Ygritte one, but that still doesn’t hide the fact that they’re meant to be matching.

James shrugs haplessly. “You know nothing Jon Snow?”

She bites back a smile. “That’s my line,” she says, and he ducks his head, grinning.

“My apologies to the lady,” he says good naturedly, offering her his arm. “Can I get you a drink in return?”

Lily takes it mustering up all the pomp and circumstance she can for the occasion. It’s quite at odds for the character she’s sporting but she doesn’t really care.

“It’s the least you can do,” she sighs, taking his arm.

-

v.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she deadpans, looking at him. Even James seems sheepish, scratching the back of his neck while she openly gapes at his costume.

He’s dressed as Mario, fake moustache and all, while Sirius stands next to him in a Luigi costume. He glances between the two of them and then scoffs before walking away.

Lily on the other hand is Princess Peach. She even bought a wig to go with her humongous dress.

“I swear I didn’t even try to match with you this time,” he says hurriedly, “I didn’t even know you were going to  _ be  _ here.”

“I didn’t know either,” she admits, before narrowing her eyes, “Wait. What do you mean you didn’t even try to match?”

He turns bright red at this, and it just makes her even more suspicious.

“Er, fun fact,” he starts off, voice shaking just a little, “Mary is willing to tell me anything about your costume after the first time we matched.”

He can’t seem to meet her eye, and Lily just blinks, once, twice, and then she swears violently, almost making him jump.

“I’m going to  _ murder  _ her.”

“Please don’t murder her. She’s only doing it because she’s taken pity on my pathetic ass,” he says hurriedly, two blotches of colour appearing on his cheeks. “I, uh, was trying to use this as a way to- hit on you? That’s not really the right word but-”

“You figured the best approach to get my attention was to show up at the same parties I do in the matching costumes for like two consecutive years?”

The colour gets brighter, and James scuffs at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “Well, when you put it like  _ that _ .”

She has to giggle at that, slapping a hand over her mouth almost the same second the sound comes out, but his head already shoots up.

“So just out of curiousity,” she asks, “Is matching Halloween costumes the first thing on your list when you’re trying to get a girl to go out with you?”

He groans, and this time she doesn’t bother to hide her grin, taking pleasure in his embarrassment. “It’s stupid okay; I know this, you know this, we all know this. I just- I didn’t know how to get your attention.”

Lily can’t stop grinning, and it’s hurting her cheeks. “Well,” she says, stepping into him and taking his hand, “Consider my attention caught.”

He blinks in disbelief, and she squeezes his hand. “Are you serious?”

“No I’m Lily, they were all out of Sirius costumes at the store,” she jokes and he groans again, letting his head fall in the space between her shoulder and neck, just barely nuzzling the skin there. She lets a hand thread through his hair, savouring it.

“We were having a moment, Evans,” he whines into her neck, “A perfectly good moment and you just had to go and ruin it.”

“Hey, you’re the one who tried to romance me with matching Halloween costumes; you can’t talk.”

“I had a system!” he protests, pulling back to look at her, and she can just feel her heart swelling with fondness for this stupid boy.

She uses the hand that’s still tangled in his hair to draw him in closer. “Yeah, well, your system sucks,” she murmurs as their noses brush together, and then surges upwards to kiss him full on the mouth because James Potter may be terrible at getting girls, but that’s okay.

He already has her.


	7. my knight in shining armour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i knew you in high school and i ran into you at a renaissance fair wearing full knight regalia”

Look, Lily likes having a stable job okay? She’s twenty four with a degree in journalism and everyday she counts her lucky stars that she somehow- miraculously- managed to get hired straight out of uni. It’s the true millennial dream.

Sure, sometimes it’s kind of banal and flat out ridiculous- one time she was forced to go to a metal festival for an entire weekend to figure out whether or not it was ‘a cult thing’ as her editor put it- but again, it’s a stable job, with a stable income, and has pretty flexible hours. She can afford to pay rent and splurge on those giant Cadbury bars once a month and that is peak adulthood for her.

-

The renaissance fair is an annual thing done to raise funds for the restoration of historical sites in the town. This year they’re working on a couple big projects so Lily is sent out get details. Which means she has to stuff herself in a corset and deal with being spoken too in ‘Ye Olde English’ for the better part of the day. She wishes there was something stronger than mulled mead on hand to help her get through it all.

It’s going fairly okay if one were to subtract the impending headache. Most vendors are pretty excited to talk about their trade as well as the cause, and she even gets a free piece of cheese which is… strange, but not entirely unwanted.

At least everything is going okay until she collides into what feels like a brick wall.

Lily swears loudly and violently, screwing her eyes shut as she braces for impact with the hard dirt packed ground, but it never comes. Instead, she feels something grab her- at her forearm and waist- and tug her back into a standing position.

She opens her eyes and comes face to face with her literal knight in shining armour.

(It’ll be a goddamn lie if she said that that didn’t make her swoon just a little bit. What? She could be a strong, independent young woman and still like feeling like a princess. Or an Austen heroine. Both are good.)

“Evans?” someone says from behind the helmet, voice muffled.

The hands leave her now that she’s stable and go to his visor, flipping it up, and lo and behold he actual knight in shining is none other than James Potter.

Maybe all that mead actually did go to her head.

She remembers him from back in school, the various A level study groups and cram sessions they attended together. They were- not friends exactly, but fairly cordial even though she thought he was a right ponce at times. Perhaps acquaintance might be the better word for it.

“Potter,” she says, a shade of surprise colouring her voice. She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He’s still a head taller than her, but seems to have filled out a bit more, no longer quite as gangly as he was at 18. A pair of clunky black frames are perched on his nose, lopsided, and even though the helmet blocks both of it, she can still see the ends of his hair curling over his forehead, unruly as always. It’s a good look on him, somehow even better than when they were in school.

James ducks his head at that, scuffing the ground with his toe. “I’m actually volunteering to help them her today. Sirius is doing the soak-a-bloke and I’m here for the unwitting guests to joust against.” He stops only to throw her a sly grin, “And save the odd damsel in distress as well it seems.”

She can’t help but snort. “I see you’re still a smarmy bastard,” she teases, just like she did back in secondary school, though there’s less of an edge to it this time.

“Am not. It’s just called game. Something you’re probably unfamiliar with, dear Evans,” he shoots back in return, taking care to bump her lightly with his shoulder. The metal is cold, even through her many layers of clothing.

“Oh please,” she scoffs, walking in line with him as they head back to the jousting arena. “I have lots of game.”

He ducks under the bright blue rope that cordons off the area and gives her one heart stopping grin. “Alright then. How about a little wager to settle it?” he slides one of the jousting sticks towards her, “If I win, you say I have game. You win, and I concede.”

She takes it, hitting the padded end against the ground. “You’re on.”

(James wins, but he insists on making up for knocking her into the dirt by buying her one of the decidedly not era relevant ice cream sundaes and splitting it as they watch the sun go down.)


	8. quick make out with me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex. Quick make out with me, I’ll pay you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> old prompt fill for @mimi-pctter on tumblr!

James has been in a lot of peculiar situations in his life. One time he performed a particularly riveting soliloquy atop an old Formica table in an ice cream parlour about the dangers of E coli. Another time he got shit faced drunk with Sirius and they, only to wake up with roughly seven breathing balls of fur- later to be recognised as cats once he slipped on his glasses- kneading his stomach.

So yeah, he’s done some weird shit.

And technically speaking, making out with a stranger at a party isn’t even that odd. People do it all the time. Of course, it doesn’t usually start off with a business deal, but to each their own.

So when the stunning redhead he’d been eyeing across the room a few hours prior threw herself into his arms with a hissed, “Quick make out me! I’ll pay you!” he was just the right shade of drunk to sloppily seal his mouth over hers without any questions.

 

* * *

 

 

Look, Lily’s not gonna deny that she loves parties okay? But she had her last final today and all she wanted to do was rest, maybe watch old reruns of MasterChef until she fell asleep.

Unfortunately for her, Marlene had other ideas, which is why she’s here, awkward skirting around yet another couple hellbent on damn near fucking each other on the makeshift dance floor while she tried to get a drink.

“I hate you,” she tells Marlene for the umpteenth time. “I could be home, watching Gordon Ramsey yell about incompetence in my pyjamas but instead I’m here getting groped by freshmen.”

Marlene snorts. “You kicked him in the shins and threatened to rip his bollocks off if he touched another girl without her consent; I think you’re winning.”

Lily pouts, and elbows her in the ribs, which the other girl deftly avoids. “Look,” says Marlene, “If it bothers you so much then you can leave early and I’ll bring you back that disgusting ice cream you like so much.”

“It’s called a Klondike bar and it’s delicious,” she sniffs.

“It’s called a disgrace to ice cream everywhere and tastes like sadness,” the other girl deadpans, “Just stick around for like an hour, show the world that you’re not dead, and let me introduce you to some of my friends from my psyche class. You’ll love James and Sirius.”

“If I punch anyone you’re bailing me out of jail,” Lily says darkly, and Marlene just smirks, pressing a drink into her hand and a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

“Ta love,” she winks.

The party isn’t a total bust, and Lily’s like 78% sure that if she wasn’t bone dead tired, she would actually enjoy herself. Still, it’s nice to chat with a few friends who she hasn’t seen in the past few weeks, prove to Bertha Jorkins that no, she’s not dead in a ditch or ran off and eloped with her secret Russian lover like she suspected, and drink something that’s not coffee mixed with Red Bull. She even managed to escape the front room bursting with lowerclassmen trying too hard, to mingle with her peers in the back, where everyone was in jeans or sweats and definitely not trying engaging in voracious make out sessions.

And then it all goes to shit when she spots Bertram in the crowd.

It’s not that- Lily is actually a nice person underneath her spitfire exterior, and she had dated Bertram Aubrey for roughly three months before she gently let him down.

(He was a nice boy. Just maybe too nice.)

(Too nice as in he always wore sweater vests with crisply pressed shirts, never had a hair out of place, and the strongest thing he would touch was a shandy. Meanwhile Lily usually dresses like a homeless person half the time, brushes her hair maybe twice a week, and could usually be found shotting back whiskey with the girls. They just didn’t work out in the long run.)

And because he’s a too nice boy, he’s been seeking her out for the past month to try and figure out what he did wrong. It’s been exhausting to say the least, because she’s told him time and time again that’s it nothing to do with him, but he just doesn’t listen. She’s at the end of her rope here.

Lily pinpoints the exact second his eyes land on her- they widen and flood with sadness, his pathetic levels increasing a tenfold- and she turns on her hell, running like hell.

Or tries to at least.

There’s just so many people and she’s not familiar with the house at all and she can hear him calling her name, his voice drawing closer and closer. In the end, she stumbles loose from the crowd and spots a pair of blokes chatting in the corner. The one on the left, the taller of the two who’s wearing a clunky pair of glasses and seems like he has a deep rooted fear of combs and brushes, would have been her type under any other circumstances, but she can see Bertram’s blonde head fighting through the crowd and she’s shit out of options.

So in the end, she darts forward, looping her arms around Specs’ neck, muttering, “Quick make out me! I’ll pay you!”

His hands grab on to her hips with a noise of surprise, and Lily takes the opportunity to press her mouth against his. He responds almost immediately, thank god, parting his lips beneath hers and letting his tongue flick against her. The hand on her hip spasms when she reciprocates, licking out the taste of beer and liquorice while she tugs her hand through the tufts off hair at the base of his skull.

It’s not the best kiss she’s ever received, but it’s still well enough to make her forget for a moment the events that led them to this, and he’s warm and eager so she just goes for it.

They do part after a while, breathing heavy, and when she sneaks a look over his shoulder, Bertram is gone and she feels her shoulders slump in relief. Behind her, she can hear the bloke he was talking to before laughing.

“Sorry,” she says, stepping back and refusing to be embarrassed. “I was trying to escape my ex.”

He’s even cuter up close, hazel eyes glinting behind his glasses, all smooth brown skin interspaced with a few scars here and there. His lips- cherry red and well kissed- quirk upwards and she feels her stomach swoop because yep, definitely her type.

“No worries,” he says, “Happy to help.”

She’s positive he would have said more if Marlene hadn’t chosen that moment to show up out of nowhere.

“Lily!” she squeals happily, clearly already a few drinks in, “Here you are! I just ran into Aubrey looking like a kicked puppy. Did you finally tell him off for good?”

Lily has to bite back a smile and when she glances up at the boy beside her, she sees that he has no such qualms, smirking stupidly back down at her. He even has the audacity to wink.

“Something like that,” she allows, and Marlene finally recognises that they’re not alone.

“Oh! You’ve met James and Sirius,” she says happily, squeezing her hand. She whirls around to the man who was laughing at them before. “Sirius, this is Lily, she’s great, you’ll love her.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he replies, smirking, “She’s made quite a first impression.”

While Marlene is too busy interrogating him about what that’s supposed to mean, Lily turns back around to face James, who hasn’t stopped grinning since she appeared out of nowhere and kissed him.

“So,” she starts, shoving her hands in her pockets, “I can’t actually pay you for making out with me.”

He snorts. “I figured. Although, if you did, would that be considered low key prostitution?”

She opens her mouth, only to snap it back shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Huh, maybe,” she says after thinking it through. Lily stops and shakes her head, trying to gather her thoughts. “Anyway, I can’t actually pay you now because the only thing I have on me is an old movie stub and some gum wrappers, but if you want we could go for coffee sometime?”

His smile only widens further at that, boyish and charming, and he licks hi lips before answering, “That sounds nice. Just one question?”

“What’s that?”

“Do I have to pretend to have seen an ex after to get to make out with you, or can I just go far it?”

Lily throws her head back and laughs. “Either one is fine,” she tells him, and the two of them are left smiling like loons in the corner.


	9. netflix and chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jily au where “james does not know what netflix and chill means so he comes over fully intending to actually netflix and chill and ignores that she’s wearing nothing but her ridiculous mismatched knee high socks and one of his jumpers"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another prompt fill i did a while back. rated m!

When Lily realises that she has a crush on James Potter- an honest to god, heart fluttering, palms sweating, chest aching _crush_ \- she swears, violently and loud, and then proceeds to hide away from humanity for the next couple of days.

She’s an adult who works from home ok? She can do things like this without anyone questioning her motives.

Eventually, when she’s gone through almost two bottles of wine and hasn’t worn anything but fun patterned socks with large t shirts in almost a week, she figures that it’s time to do something about it. Her crush. On James.

She’s going to need more wine. Possibly something a bit harder too as well.

In the end, Lily doesn’t do either of those things, and after just one glass, she’s texting James to come over the next day so they can watch _It’s Always Sunny_ on Netflix and hang out.

Okay, so maybe the text she sent said ‘you, me and Danny DeVito on netflix?’ She’s taking a proactive approach to dealing with her crush. A hopefully to be hands on approach since she actually took a step towards doing something.

Doing him something.

Doing something with him that involves a hands on experience.

She probably should stay away from the wine.

-

James comes over Saturday afternoon, bringing with him her favourite pastries and a six pack of her favourite orange soft drink which- honestly how did she not realise _before_ that she had a massive crush on this git? She takes them from him while he shrugs off his coat and then dramatically throws herself over the back of the couch, swinging her sock clad feet up into his lap.

“Cute,” he snorts, tugging on her toe, and she kicks him in the thigh.

Lily flips her hair over her shoulder, none too concerned about the fact that she’s wearing nothing but his dark blue jumper and rainbow striped socks, and flashes him a megawatt grin. “Thanks. I try.”

He just snorts again and picks up the remote, starting the show.

See, Lily has a plan. Over the past few years she’d like to think that she’s become a sort of master in the art of Netflix and Chill. She has a system, a slow progression of events which makes them go from sitting on either end of the couch to his head between her thighs in a way that seems almost as natural as breathing.

So really, she’s perfectly fine with them watching an entire episode. James is obviously very much into it, and she finds it endearing, but when the second one begins, she starts putting her plan in action. Sighing a bit as she stretched, she moves her feet out of his lap and places them under her s she drags herself closer.

By the third episode she’s snuggled under his arm, breathing him in, all spice and musk and James, and she’s playing with the buttons on his flannel while her jumper rides further up her thighs.

Usually by the fourth one someone would have made a move and they’d be furiously necking on the couch, but when she leans up, bumping her head against the underside of his jaw, James has the audacity to shush her. Her jaw falls open, but he doesn’t seem to realise, too caught up in the show.

Before the fifth one even starts, she’s asleep, the worn material of his undershirt curled in her fist while his hand is tangled in the ends of her hair. He makes a pretty good pillow. She also comes to the startling- and saddening- realisation that James Potter does not know what Netflix and Chill means.

It’s tragic.

It shouldn’t make her want to kiss his stupid face even more.

When he’s ready to leave, hours later, he presses a kiss to her crown like he always does and smirks, “Honestly, you invited me over to watch Netflix and fell asleep. Who does that?”

Her smile is wry when she says, “Oh yeah, definitely. Shame on me for not actually wanting to watch Netflix and using you as a pillow.”

“I knew you were in it just for my body,” and Lily has to mask her laugh with a cough because technically, he’s not wrong. She does want his body. And other things. She wants _him_.

“You got me there.”

He smiles at her, lazy and bright, as he dons his coat. “Well, anytime to you want to sleep on me again, I’m just a phone call away.”

Oh how she wished he’d use another preposition instead of on. Like with.

Instead, she nods, and tugs the hem of the jumper, trying not to be upset when his eyes doesn’t even stray once. Really, she practically offers herself up to him in nothing but his jumper and curls up in his lap. What more does he need?

(Plenty more apparently. He’s blind in all forms of the word.)

Still, she waves goodbye and locks the door behind him before throwing herself onto the couch with a groan.

-

She calls Marlene later when she’s getting ready for bed.

“I’m hot, right? Like, if you weren’t tragically straight you’d bang right?” she asks as soon she picks up.

Marlene pauses on the other end, and heaves a sigh. “What did you do this time?”

“Answer my question.”

She sighs again, this one more longsuffering than the last. “Considering I made out with you once, yes. And considering that you’ve been with a number of guys and girls who’ve told you the same thing a hundred different ways, yes,” she replies, “What prompted the ego boost?”

“James doesn’t want to sleep with me.”

“James is a punk ass bitch.”

“Please don’t quote SNL,” Lily says, pained, “I’m trying to be serious.”

“Honestly, if you haven’t realised that that boy is hopelessly and desperately in love with you, you’re a lost cause,” she says. “Have you thought about making move?”

“I made a move! I invited him to Netflix and Chill! Which he took literally!”

Marlene fucking cackles on the other end. “Maybe you should be more direct.”

“I was wearing nothing but a jumper I stole from him and curled up in his lap,” huffs Lily, “How much direct do you need me to be?”

“I dunno. Have you tried throwing your knickers at him? Leaving them under his pillow like a weird tooth fairy?”

It’s her turn to sigh resignedly. “You’re no help at all.”

“Hey, it works for me and all the guys.”

“Good _bye_ Marlene.”

-

Lily tries it twice more, inviting him over to Netflix and Chill.

The first time she tries a different approach, texting him, _hey my parents aren’t home come over_ , to which he replies almost immediately with:

**_You live by yourself. I’d be more concerned  
if they were home._ **

She frowns down at her phone as if it’s done her some sort of personal injustice before responding.

_you’re supposed to say ‘i can’t i’m busy’ to  
which I reply ‘but i wanna Netflix and chill’_

It takes him a few minutes to reply this time, in which she stares at those three little dots as they continuously disappear and reappear.

**_it seems like you know all my lines_ **

And then,

**_be there in 30_ **

She wears another t shirt of his- an old faded one for some indie band that she’s never heard off- and mismatched socks, one covered in emojis and the other a superman one, with a tiny cape to the back. James brings pizza this time, and she picks off all the sweet peppers from her slice, passing it off to him, before they proceed to finish the first season of the show.

When he leaves, she texts Marlene about her failure yet again, to which she receives ‘Unsubscribe from Lily Evans’ sex life- or lack thereof- updates,’ which. Well, she probably deserved that.

The second time she tries a more direct approach, just sending him ‘netflix and chill @4?’ and the same thing happens yet again.

She wants to cry and tear her hair out.

If it was anyone else she would have quit it and moved on, but it’s not anyone, it’s James and she can’t just leave it. Because James is her friend; James is one of her best friends who lets her steal his t shirts when she comes over and takes her on late night adventures, even if it’s just to the Tesco down the street for lollies.

Maybe Marlene is right, maybe she should be more direct.

-

She invites him over once more, just to hang out, promising that she’d order Chinese if he picked up wine. They cuddle on the couch, and he steals her dumplings, and this is what she likes most about them, this easiness and comfort and how they can simply be with each other.

She still wants his head between her legs though.

Lily waits until they finish the second season- because she’s not an _animal_ \- before she twists around to face him and pulls of her shirt in one fluid movement.

The look on his face is worth it to be honest.

“Um-” he starts, and she pushes him back against the armrest so that she can properly climb onto his lap.

His hands fly automatically to grab her thighs and she grins victoriously. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

He nods jerkily. “Yes. Definitely. I am an idiot. Why am I an idiot?”

“Because I’ve been trying to do _this_ ,” she punctuates it with a roll of her hips that has him choking on nothing, “Since I invited you over to Netflix and chill the first time. I can’t believe you didn’t know what that meant.”

The hands on her thighs tighten. “I thought you actually wanted to Netflix and chill!” he protests, eyes snapping up to meet hers. They’re dark behind his glasses and she runs her hands up his chest to play with the hair at the base of his neck. “I didn’t think you had ulterior motives. Fuck, Evans.”

Her grin is feral when she says, “That _is_ my ulterior motive,” and he groans when he finally gets the joke.

When he finally leans up and kisses her, she breathes a sigh of relief into his mouth while her fingers knot themselves in his tousled hair. It’s everything she imagined and more, all warmth and contentment, and when his tongue traces the seam of her lips, she groans and nips at him.

He pulls away, flushed and panting, though wearing a grin that positively threatens to crack his face in to, he says, “Just so we’re clear, I’m taking you out on a date after this. Several dates. You’re not getting away from me so easily.”

Lily rocks down again in his lap, and he gropes her in retaliation. “If you didn’t, I would punch you in the dick,” she chirps sweetly, even as she arches her back to press her chest closer to him.

“Only if you kiss it better,” he snarks as he helps her pull off his t shirt, and then they’re off, colliding together is a tangle of limbs and want, licking the mirth off each other’s lips as they grapple with clothing.

She all out straddles him on the couch, while he presses sucking kisses down the column of her neck, until Lily whines and tugs him back up.

He laughs a bit against her mouth. “I have very elaborate plans of fucking you, and none of them include listening to Kaitlin Oslon’s voice in the background.”

She manages to finally undo his jeans and shamelessly stares at the bulge in his pants. “Not gonna lie, I stopped listening after you said you had very elaborate plans of fucking me,” she says, before kissing him quick and then dropping to her knees.

Whatever he was planning to say turns in to wordless garble when she finally gets her mouth on him, and Lily learns that she quite likes getting her hair pulled as he swears above her.

He repays the favour afterwards, going down on her until she can’t think straight, and it’s quite possible that her nails left permanent imprints on his shoulders.

They tumble into her bed, stealing wet kisses and laughing when they realise she still has on her sock- an x ray version of her feet today. James kisses up her calves as he tugs them off, and then bites the jut of her hip, swirling his tongue in her navel while Lily just groans above him.

“This is going to become a regular occurrence,” he tells her while he fumbles for a condom, “Since you’re my girlfriend now. Hope you don’t mind.”

She’s doing her best to distract him, and looks up from where she was biting a chord of muscle. “I don’t remember you asking me to be your girlfriend.”

He slides into her in one quick thrust. “Go out with me, Evans?”

She rolls her eyes, even as she hitches her leg higher on his hip. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” she says, and then groans when he presses into her, hitting that spot that makes her see white. “ _Very_ nicely,” she corrects, panting into his neck, and he smirks in return.

After, when she’s lying on his chest as sweat cools their skin, he rumbles out, “What say you to us having our first date in your kitchen? I’m starved.”

She snorts into his arm, letting her hand drop from where she was drawing circles across his chest. “Wow, you sure know how to romance a girl.”

James presses a kiss to the top of her head, just like he always does. “I’ll take you somewhere nice tomorrow. There’ll be, you know, flowers and shit.”

“Oh, well, if there’re flowers,” she teases, and then shrieks as he begins to mercilessly tickle her sides.

“Alright, alright, stop,” she begs, and he does so, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She throws her legs over the side of the bed, and pulls on his t shirt, the one he was wearing earlier. “Come on. I think I have some peanut butter and toast.”

“You’re a real masterchef, Evans,” he drawls as he does up his pants, and Lily sticks her tongue out at him.

It isn’t bad, as first dates go, both half dressed and laughing in her kitchen together until she almost chokes. It’s nice, and when James smiles at her again, that same, lovely, heartbreakingly perfect smile he’s been giving her since she first kissed him, Lily thinks that she could definitely get used to this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teacher/ single parent au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another old fic i found in the deep corners of my blog, originally published on august 2014

****

Parents’ days were either fun or a right pain in the arse. As a year one teacher, Lily didn’t have much to talk about with most parents and in her mind that was all well and fine. Some parents were all smile and laughs and let you say your part quickly and leave. Those were her favourites to deal with. Others liked to sit and talk and talk and  _talk_. And they could talk about everything and anything. Their child was their absolute pride and joy and they made sure that the world knew about their every achievement. That was nice and all, but Lily wasn’t particularly keen on sitting down, smiling and nodding at the animated couple in front of her for the past twenty minutes or so. Right now they were talking about how neat their daughter’s handwriting was for a five year old. She wanted to bash her head into the desk.

Finally-  _finally_ \- they stood up. “Time sure flies,” the man laughed, helping his wife out of her chair. “Emily has piano classes at four.”

“She’s such a lovely pianist,” the mother cooed, pinching her daughter’s cheeks. Lily kept on smiling and nodding. Emily gave her a toothy grin.

“We must be going. It’s been a pleasure Miss Evans,” he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. “I hope we can do this soon again.”

 _Oh god I hope not_ , Lily frantically thought, even as she continued to smile and shook each of the parents’ hands. “It has,” she lied.

A few more pleasantries were exchanged amongst them as they headed towards the door. Lily continued to wave right until the sole of Emily’s pink shoes disappeared. She immediately slumped against the desk, delicately pinching the bridge of her nose as she repeatedly hit her head against the wooden surface.

The sound of the chair scraping against the linoleum classroom floor a few seconds later caused her to snap back up. A man with wildly messy hair was sitting across the desk from her, grinning widely. He was dressed in an old t shirt of a band that Lily used to love, dark jeans and converse, seeming to be no older than her twenty five years.

“You must be Harry’s dad,” she said immediately, stretching a hand across to shake with his. A light blush decorated her cheeks as she realised that this man had just walked in on her banging her head against the desk. He seemed to realise so as well as he smirked a bit. “I can tell by the hair.”

His grin widened and he ruffled his hair with a free hand. “James Potter,” he introduced himself as. “It’s nice to finally meet the Miss Evans that my son cannot shut up about. I hope you won’t trying to kill any brain cells because of me,” he joked.

Lily’s blush darkened. “No, of course not,” she said hastily. “I’m just…er, tired.”

“Ah yes; I’ve heard hitting your head against hard surfaces is a proper remedy for tiredness.”

To save herself from further embarrassment, she immediately switched topics. “You can call me Lily,” she said before mentally kicking herself. Call her Lily. What the hell possessed her to tell him that? She didn’t tell any other parents to call her Lily. There goes sparing herself any further humiliation in front of the good looking man that sat before her. Oh god, did she just think that? What was wrong with her this evening? Maybe he was right; she had killed off a few brain cells while knocking her head. “Harry is wonderful student,” she said quickly lest she accidentally say any of the things that were flitting through her mind. “He’s very smart for a five year old, although he can be a bit…rambunctious at times,” she said delicately.

James gave her that crooked grin again. She gripped onto the edge of the desk that was out of his sight, stomach swooping. That was not good. “Glad to know I haven’t completely messed up the poor kid,” he said, pushing up his glasses.

She shook her head. “Not at all Mr. Potter-”

“James,” he interjected. “Just James.”

Lily found herself blushing again. “James,” she said firmly, looking up at him and grinning. His previous grin hadn’t wavered since then. Something clicked between them, leaving a sparkle in his hazel eyes as he stared back at her. There was that damned swooping again…

“Dad!” a yell interrupted… whatever was happening between them, and two sets of eyes flashed towards the door. “Daddy!” yelled Harry again as he ran towards them, one grubby hand closed into a tight fist and the other pushing his glasses up just like his father did moments ago.

James’ face broke out in a grin and he held his hands open, grabbing Harry around the middle. The boy screeched with delight as his father tickled him. “What’s up, buttercup?” James asked, pulling him onto his lap and messing up his hair.

Lily felt her jaw drop slightly as she viewed the two of them side by side. Harry seemed to be a split image of his father. The two of them looked exactly alike with only a few minor differences here and there; James was a bit darker in colour, Harry’s face still had the softness and roundness of childhood. Other than that, everything was same. Same hair, same nose, same eyes. Lily found herself blinking several times in quick succession as she tried to process it all.

“Look what I found!” Harry said before proudly sticking out his fist and opening it.

The smile slid off James’ face. “Oh blo- blast,” he corrected himself hastily, glancing up at Lily and colouring slightly. “Not again, mate,” he muttered.

There was an earthworm wriggling around in his palm and Harry grinned proudly as though it was the greatest thing ever. James brought an exasperated hand up to his face. Meanwhile Lily stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

“Now Harry, what did I tell you about bringing worms into the classroom?” she asked, fixing him with a stern expression.

His face fell slightly. “Not to do it,” he repeated in a monotone with a slight pout.

Lily nodded. “Good,” she said. “Now go put him back outside in one of the troughs and come here to wash your hands.”

Harry nodded solemnly and his glasses slipped down his nose. “Yes Miss.” He hopped off his dad and tottered away. He bent down right by the edge of the classroom door and threw the worm away with all his might. Lily giggled. At least he got rid of it outside this time and didn’t put it in Suzy Wilkinson’s hair again. Harry ran back in and jumped up on the stool by the classroom sink to start washing his hands.

James watched all of this with his jaw slightly agape. His gaze snapped back to her. “How…?” was all he managed to say.

Lily shrugged. “He’s curious about the world. At least this time he didn’t drag a cat in by the tail,” she grinned.

James looked mortified. “Oh god,” he said, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said easily. “He has- dry those hands with the towel, Harry Potter, and not on your pants!” she called out to the boy. He froze immediately, hands still dripping wet, and slowly reached out for the little towel hanging next to the sink. “Sorry about that,” she apologised.

James looked impressed. “Wow. You’re good at that,” he said. “You weren’t even looking at him.”

“You should see me when there’s thirty of them to worry about,” she said dryly. James blanched and Lily had to stifle a laugh. “As I was saying, he’s a good student, although he has a certain tendency to pull a few pranks every once in a while. Nothing major of course,” she was quick to reassure him, “Just minor things, like switching the paint labels so that some students have blue suns or putting worms in their bags.”

He ran a hand through his hair again. “Yeah, he probably gets that from me,” said James. “I was a bit of a troublemaker back in school. Having him hang around with my mates probably doesn’t help with that either.”

“He’s very good at everything else though,” Lily said, “And he loves animals; keeps trying to bring them into the classroom that one is. Does he have any pets at home?”

James shook his head. “It’s just me and this little bugger,” he said, scooping Harry back up on to his lap.

Lily couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two of them interact. He seemed so young to be a father, but she could tell that he was trying his best and after today, she knew that he was better than half of the other parents who had showed up.

“Daddy,” interrupted Harry. James, who was bouncing him up and down, stilled in his actions. “Can we go out for ice cream after?”

“Sure thing, mate,” said James.

“Dad,” Harry started again. “Can Miss Evans come with us?”

Lily’s cheeks immediately flooded with colour. “Oh no, Harry I couldn’t possibly-”

“Why not?” asked James, cutting in. “If I were you, I’d love to go for ice cream after a wretched day like this.”

“Hey! It wasn’t a completely wretched day,” she protested.

James snorted. “It was wretched enough for you to start hitting your head against the desk.”

Lily bristled. “Can you please stop pointing that out?”

“Nah, it’s fun getting you riled up,” he smirked. The same sparkle from before was back again in his eyes.

“You and I have very different versions of fun, Mr Potter,” Lily said, packing away the roll book in to the draw.

James’ eyes narrowed slightly. “I think getting ice cream is fun,  _Ms Evans_ ,” he said pointedly.

The two of them stared determinedly at the other, James with his eyes narrowed behind his specs and Lily with a fiery eyebrow hitched, giving him her best ‘stern teacher’ look while trying her best not to smile. Meanwhile Harry was sketching away on a sheet of paper with crayons, blissfully oblivious to the tension brewing between the two adults above him.

After a few minutes Lily finally relented and sighed, “Why do you insist on me accompanying you for ice cream?”

“Because Harry wants you to come,” he replied promptly, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders.

Lily leant forward slightly and observed him over the top of her steepled fingers. “Only Harry?” she asked.

His ears turned pink. “All right, I may want you to come a bit too,” he ground out at last. “Because I think you can use an ice cream and since I can’t offer you a drink, for obvious reasons,” he said quickly, looking down at Harry who was diligently colouring away.

She shouldn’t do this. She really shouldn’t do this. It could get her in some serious trouble, especially if the administrative found out that she went out with a student for non academic reasons. Still though, Lily found herself saying slowly, “It takes me a while to lock up here.”

A brilliant grin overtook James’ face and Lily rolled her eyes, trying not to grin too. She quickly started packing away things and to her surprise, James stood up as well to help her, closing the louvers and pushing in the chairs meant for tiny bodies.

“What’re you drawing there, mate?” she heard him asked Harry as he went to fetch the crayons. Lily pretended to busy herself with packing back the chalk while she listened to them.

“Miss Evans,” came the reply.

James snickered. “It looks like her head is on fire.”

“She’s pretty,” Harry said a matter-of-factly.

There was a low sigh and Lily had to strain her ears to hear what he said next.

“Yeah,” he muttered lowly, picking up the crayons. “Yeah, she is. She’s very pretty.”

Yes, Lily thought as she secured the classroom door before walking over to where James and Harry stood, this was a very bad idea, but as James grinned at her again with that stupid sparkle, she felt her stomach swoop and she couldn’t find it in her to really care.

**Author's Note:**

> come cry with me on [tumblr!](http://hiddenpolkadots.tumblr.com)


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